Downfall
by Shamelsshussy
Summary: Set after 2x15 hallway scene. Santana can't breathe, can't see. She ducks into the first open door, and slams it behind her, hoping for dark, empty, alone. But someone is already there.


**A/N: I dunno...I just still have feelings from 2.15, you know? So this came out. Quinn seemed to be happy for Santana during landslide. And after the locker scene, Santana needs someone, so I brought back some Quintana friendship. **

* * *

She wipes a hand across her eyes, but the tears keep coming, just coursing down her cheeks. There's something loose inside her now, rattling through her chest, clawing at her throat. Snot drips from her nose before she can catch it. She clasps a hand over her nose and mouth, trying to hold back the sobs. But they come, her shoulders shake, her chest heaves. She can't breathe, can't see. She ducks into the first open door, and slams it behind her, hoping for dark, empty, alone.

But someone is already there.

In a dim corner, fingers whispering lingering touches over each other's arms and hands. Soft words in the middle of a soft kiss. Finn and Quinn.

Fuck. Just...fuck this fucking school, Santana thinks.

But she can't help it now, the flood of feeling is raging. A sob rips through her, splits the air.

They look up, too surprised to be embarrassed. They see her crumple to the floor, doubled over in agony.

Finn's eyes go wide. He can only watch as Santana sinks to the ground. He wants to bring her water, call an ambulance, get the nurse. His mouth is open, but he can't think what to say. He shoves his hands deep in his pockets, balls his fingers into fists, wonders what happened.

Quinn is quicker. She's already shoving desks and chairs aside, and in a second she's kneeling next to Santana. Grit digs into her bare knees, but she doesn't notice, only sees Santana shake and heave, unable to get a breath.

Quinn has managed to pull Santana into a sitting position, half propped against her own chest. She's stroking Santana's back, slow, even, strokes, drawing her into a hug.

As she feels Quinn's arms tighten around her, Santana tries to pull away. But her energy is drained, she can't will herself in any direction. She gives up, slumps against Quinn's neck and just sobs. Quinn feels hot tears against her skin, sliding against her cheek.

Finn has seen Santana cry plenty of times. He's seen her cry drunk and he's seen her cry in pain. He's even caught a few tears during the repeated viewings of A Land Before Time that their 3rd grade teacher used to subject them to on indoor days. But he's never seen this.

He wants to help.

"Quinn?"

But Quinn doesn't look up. Her head is bent, murmuring to Santana. No real words, just "ok, ok, ok, ok..."

So he just backs slowly over to the door. He watches them the whole time, Santana's shaking shoulders, Quinn's steady hands. But he can't find any words that make sense. So he turns the doorknob, slips out into the bright hallway. The rush to class is over, the halls are almost empty. But Brittany is sitting on the floor in front of her locker, her knees drawn up to her chest, staring straight, unmoving.

Finn turns to her, about to gesture to the room where Santana is with Quinn, about to say "She needs you." But the pieces slide a little closer together then, and he stops himself. He turns the other way, walks to class. His heart is pounding.

* * *

Santana can breathe a little better now. She pulls away from Quinn, crosses her legs, looks down at her hands in her lap.

"I got snot all over you."

Quinn shrugs.

Santana looks up. Her eyes are swollen now, her skin blotchy, her nose red. "We're not even friends."

Quinn reaches out, but she's still surprised when Santana lets her take her hand. "We used to be."

Santana cries again, soft little sobs this time, silvery tears dripping down her nose, off of her chin. It feels like all the pain she's caused other people is reversing course, zooming straight back into her heart, sucked in by the gravity of her sadness.

"She...she..."

Quinn doesn't make her finish the sentence, just nods. And mostly, she does understand.

After a minute of quiet, Quinn gets up, finds her backpack. She brings it back to where Santana is sitting, digs out a small packet of tissues and hands it over. Santana blots and rubs, trying to make herself presentable again.

"That song was really beautiful." Quinn says softly. And it was.

"That _song_." Santana scoffs.

"I was really proud of you."

Santana opens her mouth to tell Quinn she doesn't care what the fuck she thinks. But the anger is gone, gone for good. She's just sad, achy, exhausted. Quinn is warm and soft next to her. So she gives up, gives in. She leans her head on Quinn's shoulder, closes her eyes.

More tears come.

Quinn watches them fall.


End file.
